


Kill the Goose

by drikstreedur



Series: Gold and Gunpowder [10]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, I am an art student not a med student, M/M, More angst, also ignore the OCs I couldn't figure out an idea for the other crew, and the obvious medical misinformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drikstreedur/pseuds/drikstreedur
Summary: In which things go horribly, horribly awry.





	Kill the Goose

Geoff was tired. Very, very tired. The entire crew could see the way he looked like he never slept more than an hour a night, or the way he stressed himself out about everything, or the way he struggled to stay sober on some days when everything wanted to go wrong. But he was a stubborn leader, and like hell was he going to let someone take over his crew for him.

But when he suddenly collapsed during a routine mission, the realization hit that maybe he needed to get someone to help run the crew. To lift some of the weight off his shoulders. Jack was already helping as much as she could, but much like Geoff, she was so tired from just trying to keep track of the rest of the crew and tend to them like a doting mother would to her rambunctious, particularly murderous children.

They needed to find someone to help take the reigns, and luckily Geoff had connections with someone he could trust. And that man’s name was Trevor Collins. The man had started out as a scientist for NASA, and had sunk into the underground progressively to look for funding and supplies for his projects. Before he knew it, he was stuck in the underground crime syndicate, and his colleagues had all but left him behind. He ran odd jobs and took on assassinations, organized heists for other crews, supplied weapons and drugs to smuggle or for the use of the crews themselves, and set up getaways and aid from behind the security of a cell phone and the trust in a Kingpin who knew the right words to say. The rest of the Fakes didn’t know him as much more than their leader’s main informant and supplier, so when Geoff brought up the fact that they were headed to an abandoned office building at the end of the business district to meet this man face-to-face, they were more than a little concerned. Geoff reassured them that there was nothing to worry about, so the rest of the crew at least stepped back on their wariness a bit, though they were still unsure what to expect.

When they arrived at the building and headed inside, it turned out they had full reason to be concerned about this venture. Not because of Trevor turning on them, but because somewhere along the line a communication system had been bugged, and they were traced by another notorious crew in the area known as Trinity. Trinity was another gang that had been relying on Trevor for their supplies, and they weren’t too happy with being told that he would be dropping off the radar suddenly. And they were upstairs waiting on the third floor with Trevor held captive not by ropes, but by an explosive belt controlled by the remote of a high-ranking Trinity member. One wrong move from Trevor, and he’d turn from a human into a gorey paint job for the room.

Trinity on one side of the room, the Fakes and their sister crew from Vice City on the other, every member with guns drawn, and a chilling silence deafening the room. The tension could be sliced with a plasma cutter. The first one to speak up was Geoff.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with our guy, Trinity?”

A skinny man, not much older than Geoff, laughed and moved forward, using a bronze-topped cane to support his right side as he walked. He had black hair except for a multi-colored pastel braid that rested over his right shoulder, and the left half of his face was disfigured with what appeared to be burn scars. He grinned a crooked grin, expression darkening.

“You are taking our supplier. I hope you realize that I do not appreciate our  _ valuable assets _ being commandeered by lesser gangs. We are simply working to correct this grave error you and Mister Collins have made, before it goes too far and we have to do something you will regret,” the man, seemingly Trinity’s leader, spoke calmly. His voice carried a very heavy Russian accent, and he spoke slowly to enunciate his words and make sure he was understood. He wanted the Fakes to be sure that he wasn’t fucking around. Geoff scowled viciously, aiming his pistol at the leader of the opposing gang but not making a move to shoot yet.

“You can find another goddamned supplier! There is no fucking reason to be threatened by this one dude being needed somewhere else!”

The man just shook his head, and then glanced back over his shoulder to another member of the crew: a short fellow with curly brown hair and eyes so bright blue they looked like he might’ve been blind. He made a slight nod of his head at the short man, and quick enough that nobody could quite register what was going on, a gunshot had gone off, and Gavin let out a painful cry before crumpling to the ground and clutching his left leg, just above the knee.

“For future reference, J.D. is an excellent marksman and far stronger than he appears for someone who is only five feet tall. You are lucky I did not have him shoot your hacker between his eyes. Consider this a warning before I have my men doing real damage to you all,” the Russian man spoke with a scowl to match Geoff’s. Geoff was about to make a comment in response, when without prompting, Ryan, Michael, and Jeremy charged forward in disorganized chaos, guns blazing haphazardly.

The room was an echo chamber of gunfire and shouting, with Geoff and Trinity’s leader staring each other down with revolvers to each others’ foreheads in the midst of the chaos.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Hadeon Volkov. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

A blast of rapid gunfire was heard in one place, followed by a clattering of metal and plastic hitting the ground, and Hadeon turned to look in the direction of the sound. Michael had shot the remote out of the hands of the Trinity member holding it, and Kovic was trying to get the explosive belt off of Trevor post-haste.

Geoff stepped back while Hadeon was distracted, and without warning Ryan sprinted toward Hadeon. The reflexes of several of Trinity’s crewmen were too quick though, and before Ryan could get to their leader there were one, two, five, seven, ten shots fired at him. He was struck in the chest multiple times, which sent him staggering backwards…

Into a window already weakened by being struck and cracked repeatedly by bullets. The force of him colliding back-first into the glass shattered the pane, and in a moment that felt like it was playing in halftime, the Vagabond was falling, falling, falling from four stories high, with five bullet holes in his torso. He was unconscious by the time he hit the ground, though he did fortunately land in a patch of tall grass at the foot of the building, as little as that helped. At least he hadn’t had his skull cracked on the pavement.

Gavin shrieked, standing up despite his injured leg, and staggering in a panic to the window. The rest of the crew followed, but Gavin had hoisted himself past jagged edges of glass and landed on the fire escape on his way down the side of the building before they could get there to stop him. The way he traipsed down the fire escape was more acrobatic than anyone had ever seen Gavin manage at all, much less with an injured leg that likely still had a bullet lodged in the muscle tissue. He managed to get to the ground unscathed and hurried over to Ryan’s crumpled body, on his side and hardly breathing, before collapsing back onto his knees and holding trembling hands out over the gravely injured man. He didn’t know what to do. He was in a blind panic, cheeks drenched with tears and breath coming out in rushed gasps.  _ No, he couldn’t lose Ryan! Not like this! _

Trinity had taken the opportunity to escape before the now-freed Trevor or any other Fakes could retaliate against the attack, and once they realized that the Fakes followed Gavin’s path down the fire escape.

Ryan was still alive, but it wasn’t looking too great for him. His torso was riddled with bullet wounds that likely punctured something vital, he had a compound fracture in his right forearm, his collarbone was pretty obviously broken, he had bruising around his ribcage that indicated fractured ribs, his right shoulder was dislocated… And he was hardly even breathing at all. They needed to get him back to the penthouse and into the infirmary  _ fast. _

* * *

Trevor let no time spare when they finally got back to the penthouse, taking it upon himself to try and fix whatever he could on Ryan. The rest of the crew tried to help, save for Michael and Gavin. Gavin was shaking and seemed traumatized, and Michael was working on trying to fish the bullet out of Gavin’s thigh while also trying to talk him down. Gavin wouldn’t speak, make eye contact, or even respond at all really. He was close to catatonic from just the sheer shock of the situation.

“Gavin, I need you to come back down to Earth there, boy. I need you to be able to talk to me so I know if the bullet broke any bones or anything in there.  _ Gavin, pay attention goddammit! _ ” Michael snapped his fingers at Gavin, who instead of looking to Michael, turned to glance at where the other four people were trying to get Ryan taken care of. He whimpered quietly, and was about to try to get up and walk over to him when Michael growled at him. “Oh no you fucking don’t. You’re in a wheelchair right now because your leg is fucked. You’re gonna have your ass wheeled over there when I’m fucking done with you, got it? I know you’re worried, but I’m not letting you get hurt worse trying to get to Ryan while literally four people are trying to operate on him at once. Chill.”

Gavin settled back down, and his eyes cast downwards to his lap. His expression was gloomy and miserable, an obvious result of both having been scolded and being beyond worried about his lover. Yet, he still didn’t speak. It was getting strange not hearing his voice in response to anything at all, actually.

When Michael had finally gotten the bullet and any remaining fragments of it fished out of Gavin’s thigh, and the hole stitched up and bandaged properly, Gavin was off wheeling over to Ryan’s bedside to keep an eye on him and watch his vitals. Michael groaned and walked over, smacked Gavin upside the head, and stood by Jeremy to make sure he didn’t need anything.

Bullets were pulled out of their wounds, bones were set and splinted, gashes were stitched shut, IV drips were hooked up, an oxygen tube was administered, and Ryan had been patched up as much as he could be without any real surgery. He didn’t seem to be bleeding internally aside from the bruising at his ribcage, thankfully, so nothing was likely too badly ruptured. But he was still really bad-off physically, and the poor vitals were the worst part of this. He wasn’t comatose, but chances are he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

Gavin rested his arms on the edge of Ryan’s cot and lied his head down on his arms, looking up at him with a sigh and a sniffle. Trevor approached him and gently put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry for this. I should’ve been more careful about people following me, but I got so involved with preparations for co-leading this crew that I let my guard down. It shouldn’t have gone like this…”

Gavin shook his head. It wasn’t Trevor’s fault at all. Sure, he could’ve been paying better attention, but he wasn’t the one who orchestrated the “interruption” in the first place. No, if anything he was placing any and all blame on Trinity. Whether or not Ryan survived this, there would be hell to pay. It just depended on Ryan’s survival what circle of hell Gavin brought upon the bastards.

But for now, he’d stay by Ryan’s side. It’s what he promised to do, wasn’t it?

“I’ll always stay, Ryan. I love you, my sweet king…”


End file.
